Royally Burned
by Vetesse
Summary: Burn Notice meets Royal Pains in this plot intensive three part team up! Featuring Hank/Boris, slash and later a bit of poly. Micheal Weston is in way over his head, finding himself far from Miami, and gets help from an unlikely source.
1. Chapter 1

'The Spy You Know' (Royally Burned) [Part 1/3]

Summary :: Boris' invitation to a state of the art science museum and laboratory, for Hank, sounds like a dream come true – especially if it means spending more time with his reclusive on again and off again lover. But when the ordeal turns into a nightmare as a rouge operatives group tries to steal sensitive information and takes hostages in the process, Hank and Boris become caught up in a one of a kind nightmare – and meet a spy from Miami who shouldn't even be there in the first place...

Note – Yeah so I suck at summaries. But this was a story I had originally done last summer and never quite finished. On top of that it all got deleted and THEN I fell in love with Hank and Boris slash. So I decided to do a re-write, mixing in a little poly in kind of a James Bond romance. I truly am a sucker for it.

Chapter One – 'You're the Strangest Kind of Right'

Between calls as he was, being the day that it had been, the last person Hank Lawson expected on his cell phone caller ID turned out to be none other than the man he'd most like to receive a call from. Though that rarely happened, it was an entertaining and relaxing thought and notion. Sometimes Hank liked to daydream about that when allowed, just to distract himself from his brother's constant chatter if for nothing else. So it was a bit hard to answer without smiling too much or sounding too ridiculously happy.

"Boris." he tried for normal... and had a feeling he failed when his younger brother gave him a 'you aren't fooling anyone' look. Evan had been trying to get out of him that he was really sleeping with older man, the very man who was the sole reason they had such amazing accommodations in the Hamptons as they did in the first place and weren't somewhere else probably a lot less fortunate. The very man that Evan liked to imagine nonsensical things about. That he was really a spy... a foreign drug smuggler or some sort of elite criminal. It was easy to do with Boris and even Hank had some of his own suspicions. He just didn't entertain them nearly so wildly as the younger Lawson.

_"Hank." _Boris returned in a somewhat playful tone and Hank hastened to get somewhere private – all while trying to appear as unhurried as possible. His tone, which he'd learned to read so well – though he'd say he'd had that skill naturally even before meeting the man – told him more than a few things. One that Boris was alone, his tone usually cool and easy – aloof – but less restrained just slightly. Two that he had surmised by how he had answered the phone that he wasn't alone... and was probably enjoying the looks he was getting from either Divya or Evan.

He answered one of those thoughts with his next statement, in the same somewhat playful tone, _"You aren't alone."_

"I am now." Hank smiled, giving a playful note to his voice as well.

Boris slightly chuckled and continued without a beat, _"I thought you might be interested, if you have the time, to go on a bit of a trip with me. You're aware of the Takodoro Science Museum and Laboratories for Foreign Affairs?"_

Hank blinked, leaning back against the side of the Villa house and trying to regain some amount of composure, "Well yeah of course I am. It's one of the leading research facilities in the world. Anyone in the medical community would dream to go there!"

_"Then I take it you have a clearing in your schedule sometime within the next few days?"_

"Actually I have time now." Hank said, checking his watch, "I'm done with appointments today. If you know-" he hastily added, "You aren't doing anything."

_"Excellent. I will pick you up then at precisely two."_

"Great. I'll see you then."

Hank checked his watch as he slid his phone closed. Ten minutes. And Boris was nothing if not punctual. Not only that but his mansion was roughly three minutes from Hank's villa on the same property so ten minutes was quite an allowance. And it wasn't exactly a date so there wasn't a lot that he had to get ready for. Which left him wandering awkwardly through the house waiting, while Divya and Evan watched on giving him odd looks.

"Rather pensive for a trip to a museum." Divya remarked conversationally.

"Oh it's not the museum... laboratory or – whatever Hank likes to do with his free time. It's who he's spending it with."

Hank gave his younger a bit of glare for a second, before sliding his gaze away, "I'll have you know it's not just a museum. It's one of the leading laboratories for foreign medical research in the whole of the United States. The museum features medical artifacts spanning hundreds of years – it's a wealth of information and knowledge and not many get that privilege to witness all of it."

"Well I'm jealous." Divya said, "You'll have to tell me all the details when you get back."

"Maybe I can ask Boris if you could go a long." Hank brightened. "I'm sorry I didn't even think of it – I don't know where my head is, of course you can come!"

"Well I wouldn't want to intrude..."

"You're not intruding." Hank laughed, hoping it didn't sound a bit hysterical. If Divya and Evan kept acting like this he might just explode. "Why would you be intruding? There's nothing to intrude _on_." his smile faded and he met them both with a level look, "If you guys have something to say, you can just say it. I'm getting a little tired of this."

"Tired of the way... we're acting?" Divya asked, giving him a pointed look.

"Oh what I can't be happy? I'm not allowed that – is that right?"

"Wow... Hank we're not saying that." Evan said, laughing but giving him a somewhat affronted and shocked look.

"Why don't you just come out with it okay? I think this is childish." Hank said flatly, glaring now.

"Oh we're being childish?" Evan said, "We... as in 'us'. As in 'not you'."

"Me? How am I acting childish? What are you even talking about?"

"How about the fact that you're clearly avoiding your relationship with-" Divya suddenly straightened and Hank's anger almost immediately evaporated at the thudding realization of why she'd reacted how she had, turning quickly around.

Hands in his pockets, standing with an air of casual aloofness he was so known for, an aplomb he'd truly mastered – stood Boris, giving them each a look that appeared nonplussed by the general atmosphere of the room – which could have been a feat in and of itself.

"Boris." Hank said, giving a bit of a glare at Divya and aiming once more for the most normal tone he could manage. Anything to smooth over the mess he'd somehow landed himself in though that was hardly his fault, glaring at Divya and Evan at the last of that thought before turning to the older man waiting for him.

"It's quite all right Hank... I prefer to keep matters private but since the cat is... quite literally out of the bag I suppose there is no sense in hiding it." he raised his head slightly, "As long as you can keep it between the two of you – yes Hank and I are in a relationship of sorts. There-" he smiled a bit, though it didn't reach his eyes, "That wasn't so hard now was it?"

Hank's heart dropped a bit, giving a bit of a glare over at Divya and Evan, "Because of Boris' standing – having an affair with his doctor is hardly good business. So if you could keep this to yourselves..."

"Hank." Divya's shoulders slumped slightly and her gaze turned more gentle, "It wasn't that we wanted the latest hot gossip." she smiled, "We just didn't want you to have to hide something that made you so happy between the three of us. As close as we are-" she gave a reluctant look over at Evan and then raised an eyebrow over at Hank, "I didn't see the need."

Hank relaxed further and even found a smile, he couldn't _not _be touched. "Thank you. I appreciate your support. I was only trying to respect Boris' position."

"Understandable." Evan said, and to his credit he actually managed a somewhat intimidating look over at the older man in question, "And just so you know? If you break his heart I'll..." he trailed off as Boris smiled a bit, raising his head and his eyes darkening slightly, "Well..." he glanced over at Boris' 'security' outside and then back at them, "I won't do anything, at all. But I'll be really, really angry and... you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Hank shook his head, deciding to rescue Boris as quickly as possible, laughing a bit and motioning him out, "Ready?"

"Indeed." he looked up at Divya and Evan, "Although this has been a pleasure... we'll take our leave now."

"My wife... attend." Evan said almost inaudibly, lowering his head and trying to cover a smile as he continued slicing up the celery in front of him.

"Funny Evan!" Hank shot back, rolling his eyes as he shut the door behind them. "I hope you didn't get that reference." he sighed to Boris as they headed to the luxury sedan waiting for them.

"I understood the reference." Boris confirmed. Hank tried for a glare but the satisfied look on Boris' face didn't quite make him able to manage it, chuckling a bit.

"If he only knew." he said, turning his gaze away.

Ever unable to be baited, Boris smirked a bit and slipped into the passenger side in the back – Hank following in after.

"I'm sorry about that. For what it's worth. And sad thing is? As bad as that was? That actually went pretty well." Hank chuckled as the sedan pulled forward. The back of it was spacious, the view from the front blocked, all windows tinted. Even though it was the most luxurious of surroundings in nearly every way... Hank couldn't help but feel a bit imprisoned and he wondered if all of Boris' life was the same. It was why often he tried to give him as much normalcy as he was sure he didn't get elsewhere.

"I didn't mind. I'm relieved they're supportive. It's a choice you should stand by, dating another man, not one you should take judgment for."

"Agreed. I just wish the entire world worked that way."

"Especially me." Boris said, looking over at him and that smile was back... but it was fading, "I wish you didn't have to be subjected to my life Hank."

"Now don't start that." Hank smiled, returning the look, the mood in the SUV noticeably shifting, "I'm your doctor and while you signed _me _up for this... it's not why I love you."

Often, Boris seemed untouchable. Unreachable. Even a foot away as they were, it was as if invisible impassable barriers stood between him and everyone else. He was sure it was Boris' position in life, his standing, even the way he'd been raised but it was also completely Boris. Even Hank had a trouble not being daunted by it, the formalities in which he carried himself, the restrains and strictures of control he held so fiercely onto. Hank was no passive submissive in a relationship but it was another way they worked. Boris wanted and needed an equal, and anyone who didn't want to surpass those barriers or shied from them didn't deserve the person within.

Hank leaned forward, brushing a kiss over his forehead just below his hairline, sweeping another one lower to the side of his face – those eyes he loved so much darting up to catch his own and then away to his lips and back up. Just like that those barriers were down and away, his control upended, and there was a level of vulnerability in his gaze that Hank couldn't cherish more. The only thing he did cherish more was that he was the one to see it and that Boris trusted him with that. And him alone.

Boris tilted his head up and their noses brushed together, Hank smiling and finding his lips easily with his own, closing his eyes only at the last moment but not completely – not before taking in the breathless open look on his lover's face, the sliver of his own blue eyes before they closed entirely and he did the same, melting happily into the blissful taste of his lover's supple lips against his own.

"Mm." Hank murmured softly, smiling as he opened his eyes as the kiss drew to a close. Tenderly he met his lips once before pulling away, leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Tonight. You and me. I don't like how long we've been apart."

Boris raised a wry eyebrow at him, "Twenty four hours?" he smiled.

"Too long." Hank grinned.

The older man's eyes fell down to his lips once more and his smile left his face abruptly, eyes flashing with lust, "Absolutely far too long." and in a smooth motion he moved closer, slipping an arm around Hank's waist and pressing his lips firmly to his own. And _god _if there wasn't something about kissing Boris.

It was unlike kissing anyone else, a mix of intense and soft – a lot but not nearly enough, just on the edge of both in a type of insanity that was too sweet, too perfect to complain about. Hank drank him in, slipping a hand around to the back of his neck possessively and leaning in, over him a bit – tracing a hand down to his exposed neck, over his shoulder and arm and then down to one of his leg's – urging it over his own. He couldn't get enough of the taste, of the feel of the man now pressed lengthwise against him.

The slight tremble alerted him first, just a shiver, but his medical mind even as fogged over with lust knew it for what it was – not pleasure, but something else, and broke the kiss immediately.

A stronger shiver followed just after and Boris gave a bit of a sharp breath, becoming aware of his own distress a second after the doctor he was partially sitting astride.

"Easy, easy." Hank murmured, settling him back a bit, "It's okay. It's this heat. Your body is having a reaction to the temperature in here, the temperature outside and what we were doing. Relax it'll pass. Here sit back-" after guiding him back to the seat, Hank quickly found what he was looking for. A small container of ice for drinks.

Cupping some of the ice in a hand he used the cooler water from it to dab across his lover's face with the backs of his fingers, wetting his forehead and the sides of his face. He was regaining color from having paled a few seconds before and it was a reassuring sign. Hank knew he was in no danger medically speaking but he knew it could be an alarming experience to have.

"There are times in which my age presents itself in annoying ways." Boris said from where he sat, eyes closed as he regained his breath, wincing irritably as his body gave another shiver, "For that you probably wish you'd taken a younger lover."

"Stop it." Hank scolded with a slight laugh but a warning one, "You may just be more sensitive to the heat. This is actually more common in fact among small children so before you become too hard on yourself-" he deposited the rest of the ice into the container before it made a mess, sitting back down beside his lover and stroking his damp fingers over his lover's face, continuing in a low murmur, "don't worry so much. Besides it was probably good timing. We are on our way to a date after all."

"Mm. Well it's a pity." Boris said, taking out a cloth from his pocket and dabbing his face with it, opening his eyes at last to Hank, "I told the driver to take the long way." he smiled.

"Well we'll have plenty of time for it later." Hank smiled, hoping his tone was a bit consoling, "In a nice, air conditioned and temperature controlled environment no less."

"Well we'll..." Boris gave him a brief, roving glance, "Still be getting all hot and sweaty. Shouldn't that affect me the same."

"Hasn't before." Hank said, grinning a bit, "And the reaction you had was due to the transition from the heat outside, to air conditioning of the villa, back into the heat and then the air conditioning of the car. Like I said you're probably just more sensitive." his tone became more thoughtful as he reached out to feel his forehead with the back of his fingers, "You don't feel warm, and your color is good. Have you ever had this problem before? Any feelings of being lightheaded – dizziness when traveling during this kind of weather?"

"A few times yes." Boris admitted, "None that severe however. And I am rather tolerant to warmer climates-"

"Just not the getting into it and back out and in again part huh?"

"Apparently so."

"Well your driver may think we're a bit crazy but I think we should skip the air conditioning on the way back? And let you take a moment or two to adjust to the heat once we leave the museum."

Boris smiled at him a bit, "You would know best."

"Well as your doctor-" Hank smiled and leaned in, giving him a gentle kiss, leaning back and regarding him with an affectionate look, "And your lover – I would be remiss if I didn't consider it."

"Quite." Boris smiled and this time he leaned in to initiate a kiss, both men savoring it for a moment before reluctantly pulling back as the car started to slow to a halt.

Hank's eyes immediately caught on the sight outside Boris' passenger side window, his mouth parting in shock at the impressively large building that was pulling up into view, the artistic monuments outside. He'd never been here before, it wasn't exactly open to the public – only private reserved tours and those like Boris who had a hand in being apart of it in some way or another. But to think of all the medical advances that had been made inside those walls, the wealth of information over the ages that it stored, was awe inspiring in a magnitude of immeasurable levels.

Not just _anybody _came here or was able and he was certainly honored now, that Boris had thought of him in this way-

"Hank I believe I need that leg."

Suddenly realizing he was leaning on the other man he quickly pulled back, blushing a bit, "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just too excited."

"Nonsense." Boris said as he reached for the door, giving him a smile as he stepped out of the car, "You have passion for what you do. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. On the contrary I believe it is vital. Especially in your profession."

Hank was surprised when he felt a hand brush against his, giving Boris a pleasantly surprised look but accepting the gesture, bringing their hands together and taking it in his own.

"The place is practically deserted today. I saw to that personally. There are a few tours but only small ones from a local elementary school. We practically have the place to ourselves."

Hank smiled, his heart warming. To think of how much thought Boris had put into this... it was almost too much for words. He wasn't exactly used to others thinking about this way. That wasn't his fault, it was mostly how he preferred it. He'd always been the older brother, looking after Evan when they were younger, and becoming a doctor had come naturally to him. But while it wasn't something he looked for or expected, being thought of was nice.

He settled his hand more fully into Boris' and together they headed towards the building. It was an overcast but warm day, the clouds a bit of a rarity in the Hamptons. Hank's mind was hardly on the weather besides Boris' health concerns, hardly able to believe he was exactly where he was.

Boris led him on a personal tour, dismissing his security for the most part and letting them walk together alone. It definitely felt more comfortable but Hank had become accustomed to those that were 'there' but not. The silent security staff, the maids, the hired help though he disliked that term a bit. He'd teased Boris about it slightly, remarking that wasn't he also part of the hired help? But the older man hadn't been baited, laughing lightly and assuring him he was certainly not that.

They paused outside an education room more fitting for children, Hank smiling at the young children as they chased bubbles across the room with giant wands while a patient tour guide talked a bit about that and other things. He caught Boris' smile at them and wondered if the other man had children. He certainly assumed not. Due to the unknown nature of Boris' genetic disease and the way he'd isolated himself as a result... it was extremely unlikely.

That troubled a bit more than Hank could fully explain why. He didn't _want _Boris to be isolated, to have to sacrifice things for a nameless condition... a condition Hank had yet to isolate and treat effectively, which above all disturbed him the most. But the ripples of it, the far reaching affects of that bothered him all equally – and deeply. To have a patient that he couldn't cure or help... was far too much for Hank. He couldn't just let it go and he had no intention of doing that with Boris. The other man was stuck with him whether he liked it or not. But he suspected he didn't mind. The fussing, sure that flustered Boris at times, but the rest he certainly wasn't complaining about.

Boris realized he was being watched and smiled, glancing over at Hank and averting his gaze away, nodding his head towards the door. Hank smiled at the wordless exchange and followed him out, giving his hand a squeeze. But whatever he was going to say next, if he could find the words, was lost as a very hurried security guard with an expression as urgent and pensive as Hank had ever seen from Boris' usually unflappable staff approached them at a fast jog.

Boris quickly asked something in a language Hank didn't understand and more words were exchanged. Hank glanced between them, frustrated beyond reason that he couldn't understand the language, growing more alarmed by the second. He fixed his eyes on his lover, "What's going on?"

"We need to leave." Boris said in English, putting a hand on his arm firmly and the take charge attitude – the relaxed aura he had before gone – alerted Hank more than anything. Something was _extremely _wrong. It wasn't like Boris to look so flustered, though outwardly he looked calm, Hank knew better. He was more alert and flustered than he'd ever seen him.

Boris suddenly looked back at the children in the other room and for a second he went still.

"Boris... Boris what's going on?" Hank asked, trying to get his attention.

It succeeded, but not in the way he'd hoped. Boris turned to his security guard and Hank was stunned to see the security guard him take out his gun, him and Boris exchanging words – some terse, before the guard reached for Hank to pull him away.

"Boris!" Hank said.

"Go Hank. As quickly as you can."

"_What_?" Hank said, trying to pull out of the guards' grip.

But Boris' wasn't listening, striding into the other room to talk to the teacher in charge of the children. The last thing Hank saw was the stunned alarm on the teacher's otherwise calm features as Boris leaned in and told her something Hank still had yet to know of. And that was enough of that.

Hank relaxed in the guards grip, just enough to get him to lower his guard, and then quickly turned and pulled away – running back for Boris, just in time to see another one of Boris' guards take the children and the teacher quickly out towards an exit side door.

"Boris what's going on?" Hank asked and he hoped his tone conveyed exactly how much he wanted an answer.

Boris watched the children leave and smoothed a hand over his tie before dropping his hands back to his side, "This building is under siege. Apparently the museum has something a trained team of mercenaries has interest in. Which isn't entirely shocking but it does mean our date will have to be postponed temporarily." he turned a very slight wry look over at Hank, smiling a bit.

It _almost _made Hank feel a flicker of humor and affectionate love for this man despite the circumstances. _Almost –_ the rest however completely made that impossible and he fought for words. "Shouldn't we be leaving then?"

Boris hesitated, _actually _hesitated and Hank grasped for more words... but they failed him. "There are more people in this building. Those children weren't the only tour."

"And the security staff is no less light today than usual however the lack of employees made the building a perfect target today. That doesn't mean there aren't others in the building. I'm... finding myself surprisingly conflicted."

It only really took a second for Hank to come to some sort of resolute decision. He couldn't just flee a building knowing that there were children inside facing armed gunmen, other people in harms way while he was safe – or worse the thought of injuries or causalities, lives that he could help to save or keep from being hurt in the first place. He could see Boris was in the same exact position.

"Can we get them out? What can we do?"

Boris hesitated, "_You _should leave-"

"I don't think so. I'm not leaving you."

Boris didn't look pleased but held out a hand to the guard nearest too him, making a motion of it and saying something to him in his native language. The guard immediately gave him his gun and Boris with an efficiency that shouldn't have shocked him, checked the barrel, released the safety and settled it in his left hand, "Keep your head down and stay close and quiet. They only want one thing. We should be able to avoid them entirely."

The entire side of the building they were in was deserted. It certainly wasn't like the movies, guns – chaos and noise. Just silence. Most of the people that could had probably run out of the building, but the silence was deafening. And just as he was starting to wonder where the gunmen were – he could start to hear them, talking amongst themselves, just beyond a room where a group of frightened school children huddled beneath a desk, a teacher struggling to keep them quiet.

"Get them out of here." Boris murmured to him and his voice allowed no arguments. They couldn't stand to speak any more or louder, so Hank gave a glare at Boris that told him he wasn't happy about leaving him behind – he certainly hoped that wasn't what was happening, and hurried to do just that as silently and out of sight as he could possibly do –

"Oh... _Frank_." they suddenly heard a loud and clear voice say, a young man, probably no older than Hank – his voice calm and a bit mocking even. Hank turned quickly to see the sound as the children ran down the stairs out of sight and was stunned to see the owner of the voice standing in the middle of the room, without an apparent care in the world.

There was a bit of a whirl of activity as the gunmen spun around to face him, the sounds of safeties being pulled back.

"Micheal." a man with a sharp Austrian accent said.

"You look surprised. And you should be. I'm a bit surprised you didn't kill me back in Miami too."

"Let's shoot him!" one of the gunmen snarled.

"No!" 'Frank' snapped quickly, "If there is anything I know about Micheal Weston is that he never is what he appears. What are you trying to pull Weston? Why are you here?"

"Oh no particular reason. _Except _one. That woman you raped in Bosnia that was freed and returned to the States that you _thought _you could just add to your list of other victims? Her husband hired me to find the son that you kept from her. And I did that."

"You... _what_?" the Austrian's voice took a note of hushed fury so strong, Hank sent a startled glance over at Boris who was crouched hidden behind the opposite wall.

"Oh but there's more." Weston said and Hank saw him smile, "I found out about the job you were trying to pull here and I almost didn't believe it at first. Considering it sounded like something more from the plot of a video game than anything actually real. _But _I did some digging. That safe behind you? Is wired with about thirty pounds of explosives courtesy of the security staff here. They graciously let me set it up for you. In case you wanted to take it. Which you're more than welcome to try now but that seeing as that would kill you and your entire team – it defeats the purpose of your whole mission doesn't it?"

"But how are you here! You were burned! You cannot leave Miami!"

"Well you could always open the safe and find out." Weston said, "Or you can dismiss your men, send them on their way, and you can me can have a chat about Bosnia, your 'son', and the radiated plutonium in that safe. You have things I want. I have things you want."

There was a silence and Hank couldn't see the reaction of the mercenaries or their leader but he held his breath and waited. And suddenly there was the sound of footsteps, Hank quickly moving for a spot inside an office where he couldn't be seen as several armed men exited the room. Hank only hoped the children and their teacher were long gone by now and the authorities were on their way. They had to be.

"So you may have stopped me from doing what I came here to do but I still have your key card and without that you can't have access to what you want." Frank said, "I want my son returned to me immediately. I see now that you mean business. I will return your key card then."

"The boy stays with his mother."

"Then what possibly could you offer me! Can you disarm those explosives?"

"If I do that and let you leave there's isn't anything stopping you but me from getting to Horatio."

"Than what do you want!" Frank yelled.

"You. Dead." a note of quiet, restrained fury crept into his voice, "Believe me after what you've done to Sam and Fiona it's the worth _way _more than that key card."

"I see..." Frank sneered, "In that case-" he said and their was a clattering of what sounded like a gun falling to the floor, "I will happily break your neck and make you tell me where you're keeping Horatio and his whore of a mother!"

Sounds of a struggle ensued, Hank giving a startled look over at Boris – wondering just what in _hell _they'd stumbled into. Boris himself looked characteristically placid but Hank could see he was debating on what to do next – when suddenly there was a shattering of glass and both Weston and Frank went crashing through the window over Hank's head.

Hank raised his arms to shield himself from the glass, the other men rolling away from him down the hallway and scrambling to their feet amongst sounds of pain and taking aim at each other once more. The concierge doctor took the time to make a break for it, heading for Boris while the other men were well and distracted. It was obvious they didn't care in the slightest about anything besides their feud so he went unnoticed.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Boris said, nodding for the door.

"You won't get an argument out of me." Hank said, but gave a glance and a wince over at the two men as Frank – the much bigger of the two, wrestled Weston into a choke hold. He hadn't realized he'd stopped in the hallway watching until Boris took a hold of his arm.

"Hank this isn't our concern."

Fighting back a curse, Hank turned and hurried after Boris, putting a hand to the small of his back and staying close. He was concerned about him and the heat, the stress of everything going on. Boris was a fit fifty two year old but with an unknown genetic disease that manifested in odd ways at often the most unsuspecting of times – that made Hank aware of his health far more keenly than anyone elses.

When they were outside, they came to a stop to look around – realizing they were in the back of the museum now. Out of harms way and apparently safe but...

Boris met his eyes and his gaze flickered over him studiously.

"He can take him... right?" Hank asked, "Weston. He didn't sound like the bad guy and that other guy was _huge_. What if he was CIA or FBI or-"

"He's neither. At least not anymore."

"Big and ugly said he was burned. That he couldn't leave Miami. Do you know what that means?"

"I do..." Boris gave a look around them and slipped the gun into his jacket pocket, "A 'spy' isn't fired. They are burned. All of their assets frozen, bank accounts, credit cards... they lose everything. They are not to leave the city they were burned in under any circumstances. Or they will be killed."

"Fired... fired for what? For anything? For..." Hank couldn't help but feel an inward tightening in his chest. Fired. Burned. Losing everything. Terms he could relate and understand too, "He didn't sound like a bad person."

"Hank he's not. Be we cannot get involved."

"I'm not asking." Hank said, "But if he doesn't deserve to lose his life how can I stand here and let it happen? I'm a _doctor_. That goes against everything that I am. And what of that boy he spoke of? What if Frank leaves that room?"

Boris regarded him for a moment, glanced to the museum and sighed sharply, taking out the gun, "We'll have to move quickly before the authorities arrive. They're not a friend to him either. But I'm sure you'll see he's perfectly fine."

They barely evaded getting shot as they entered the upper levels again, the securest part of the building, Boris reacting far quicker and taking aim. Frank dropped like a ton of bricks, rolling on the floor and groaning in pain as he held his shoulder, Hank quickly hurrying to catch up – Boris on the move again.

And he could see why. Boris kicked the gun away from the man's hand before he could reach it, aiming it at him.

"_You_." Frank spat, "I recognize you!"

"You'll wish you hadn't." Boris said and raised the gun, pulling the trigger.

"Boris!" Hank managed, startled but it was too late, seconds too late – Frank slumping to the floor, his brains splattered across the carpet.

"What the hell did you do that for!" he said, his voice raising and he didn't care if he sounded a bit hysterical. He'd just seen the person he loved kill another without so much as a glance. And suddenly Evan's often wild accusations started to hold a heavy and cold amount of truth.

To his credit... Boris looked suddenly as old as he was and he slipped the gun back into his jacket with somewhat of a disgusted twist of his hand. "Where's your man Micheal?"

Hank somehow realized over everything else that that was a good point. He was no where to be seen and he felt a trickle of alarm that grew into a bit of a panic. If they'd caught Frank escaping... that could only mean one thing.

He broke into a run from where they'd last seen him, sprinting from one room to the next. The entire area was a war zone and it was a wonder anything was left intact, which by all appearances it wasn't. And he even doubted his sanity for a brief second or two as he searched. But he was a doctor. He couldn't leave someone dead or dying or injured without help, partially why Boris'... he couldn't even think of it – what he'd done still echoing in his mind.

And he could only speculate on what he'd heard, all this too wild to nearly be imaginable but also it made a stunning amount of sense – he'd been watching too many movies and TV dramas with Evan recently that had to be it.

"Hank!" Boris called out calmly from somewhere nearby. But there was tense tenure to it that had Hank running in his direction before he made the conscious effort to do so, heart hammering in his chest. Even seeing Boris kill another man couldn't change how much he loved him, that much was obvious, if the way his heart was racing now was any indication.

A door was kicked down to the office he reached or broken and splintered at the frame so he didn't have to open it to get it. More like step over it. And it was a large conference room, the glass shattered on one side opening up into the hallway. Boris was on the other side near the wall and by it, Weston, apparently unconscious and bleeding.

"He's not responsive. But alive." Boris said as Hank approached quickly.

His color was pale, his pupils dilated and his heart rate thready, respiration low and slow – Hank taking in the information through a glance, pulling back each of his eye lids, and putting his ear against his chest to listen a moment or two. He ran his hands over him quickly and found two broken ribs, a few bruised and he wouldn't rule out fractures, contusions, abrasions, and there were even a few gashes. And there was something else...

"Hank..." Boris said and Hank followed his gaze to just under the table.

A syringe, empty, small and dangerous and almost impossible to notice. It couldn't have been there before. He reached for it but Boris stopped him, handing him his handkerchief and Hank approved of this, wrapping it up, smelling it – but it was odorless. "Strange... but it explains his sedated state. It's like he's been drugged but there's no telling with what. He needs a hospital. As soon as possible."

"That's impossible. From the conversation we heard he was burned in Miami. He's out of his zone, there is no telling what would be done to him or by whom."

"He _needs _medical attention. He'll die without it and god only knows what kind of toxin is in his system right now. I can't just leave him."

Boris paused a fraction of a second, "Could you care for him on your own with your assistant on my estate? I could provide you with all that you need."

For a moment Hank was speechless.

"Let's just say I understand his position now we need to move and quickly. I'll gather my security team. Can he be moved?"

"As carefully as humanly possible? Yes."

"Stay with him. I'll return shortly."

So Hank did just that, trying to get the man to respond a few times but there was nothing to be had in the way of a reaction. He was out cold and a more thorough and careful examination revealed a swelling around his occipital lobe, slight and just enough to cause more alarm. Frank had either thought he was dead already when he'd been trying to escape or... Hank gave a look over at the needle. He'd done something far worse.

Hank was more than surprised when not only Boris returned but two of his security staff, Divya carrying a stretcher and a bag over her shoulder, and a flight medic.

"A helicopter is waiting outside. He'll airlift him to my estate where a medical ward is being set up." Boris said, "I brought your assistant."

Hank quickly tried to recover from his shock, glancing over at Divya and the medic, "All right he has two broken ribs, three bruised on the opposite side, contusions and abrasions – I want a c-spine just in case, there's some swelling along the occipital lobe just above where I'm holding his head. He has numerous cuts and a few severe lacerations-"

"Got those." Divya said.

Hank moved his hands as carefully as he could as the flight medic situated and applied the neck brace, reaching for the bag Divya had brought as soon as his hands were free and grabbing an IV bag while Divya applied pressure stop bandages over the more serious bleeding injuries, talking all the while. "Pulse is thready but stable, respiration shallow. A syringe was found near him, we'll need to analyze that as soon as possible to find out what it was."

"Blood pressure is low but not severely so." Divya reported.

Hank didn't take off the gloves he'd put on after establishing a line, glancing up at the portable monitor. He looked away as Divya handed him an oxygen mask and slipped it over Weston's face, situating it carefully.

"Let's transfer him over and get him out of here. I don't think he's going to stabilize any further."

If that wasn't alarming enough. Something metabolically appeared to be happening within the burned spies body and Hank's more immediate concern was finding out exactly _what_.

As they carried him out, Hank walked along side and listened to Weston's heart and lungs with a stethoscope before setting it aside and helping them himself. Divya was handling this with usual aplomb but even he could see she looked flustered. It was an extreme situation in any case and Hank looked over for Boris – who was walking with them. In a lot of ways, what his lover was doing baffled him and amazed him. But in others, he wasn't truly surprised, just awed.

"Hank." Boris spoke up before they reached the helicopter and it became too noisy to speak, "I'll meet you back the mansion."

"Okay." Hank said, giving him a smile, "Just go easy on the air conditioning okay? And I want to examine you when you get back."

"Of course." Boris replied, returning the smile and turned with his two security guards, heading in the opposite direction.

Hank himself focused back on his patient, his smile immediately falling and a concerned frown lining his features. Saving this man's life was his first priority but to do so on his own – even with an assistant – outside of a hospital was a daunting thought.

All the same, it wasn't as if he couldn't try.


	2. Chapter 2

Royally Burned [2/3]

Hank was out of the helicopter before anyone else was, Divya helping him with the stretcher and then returning to the task of manually pumping oxygen into the burned spy's lungs as the flight medic came around to give them some help.

"Has he taken a turn for the worst?" Boris asked, greeting them inside as they wheeled the man into the area that had been arranged. And it certainly was arranged well, Boris in the limited time having arranged a full medical suite of all the latest technology in the scale of twenty minutes. Hank was assuming he'd had most of it already on hand.

"In a manner of speaking." Hank relented a bit, motioning for Divya to help pull the spy onto the waiting bed – replacing her hand on the pump for the oxygen mask. "On two? One – and two." he winced a bit, pulling on the sheet as Divya lifted and once moved, they worked to settle him better.

Hank glanced up and realized Boris was gone, in a way appreciating this. Boris hadn't stuck around to wait for him to consider patient confidentiality but then again, Boris could have been a source of information – if he'd known the spy. Hank didn't think that the case but something was nagging at him about Boris allowing all this trouble to be spent for one person.

"Okay I don't want to put him on a ventilator yet, not if we don't have too. Divya get a blood draw – we're analyzing it here and now, as soon as possible. He's apparently having some of immunological and metabolic reaction to some sort of aggravating agent, possibly a suppressant of the neurological neural pathways. I can't be sure of what but it's possibly causing respiratory arrest."

"So it could also be pulmonary repressive." Divya said, already part way through the blood draw he'd ordered. "That rules out most sedatives."

"In some cases, yes. Definitely on the scale we're talking about here. The lack of pupil response is worrisome." Hank ran his hands over the spy once more, after settling a proper amount of oxygen through the mask on his face – wincing, "He's neurological responses are declining. Every single one of them."

Divya gave him a worried glance at that, "I'll... put the ventilator on stand by."

"If he doesn't level out? I'm afraid that's a great idea. But we need more ideas. He's going down hill on us too fast to get a handle on this."

"I'll get to work on this-" she said, indicating the vials of blood in her hands, "Do you need me here?"

"No just stay close. I've got him."

But the problem was... at this point neither of them did. Hank wasn't even so sure, save for full life support, that he could even pull the man out of a crash. But he was not letting him go without all the fight he could manage.

He did another neurological exam, another once over, and it was about when he reached his hands – on chance that he noticed the slight bluish tint. Hank looked up at the spy and gave him a penetrating look, drawing in a breath and turning to Divya, "Toxin. It has to be some sort of toxin. He's displaying cyanosis."

"Hank..." Divya said, peering intently into the microscope in front of her, "You're right." she moved to stand, tension both in her posture and in her voice enough to cause him a feeling of near alarm.

"What is it?"

"Tetrodotixin." she handed him a readout, "Strong levels of Tetrodotixin. It wouldn't have even shown up if there hadn't been an _extraordinary _amount of it."

It was practically a death sentence.

"Okay. Let's combat the symptoms and start thinking about reversing the effects and the toxicity if we can. The most we can do is provide life support until it passes. I'll start an airway, it might reverse the cyanosis or halt its progress at the least." Hank drew in a breath and moved to get to work, trying to distract himself with actually having something to do now. And from the fact that his patient had a near one to five percent chance at surviving – at the very best.

Once basic life support was established, including an established airway, the distraction beyond the bad news dwindled to nothing. The rest was a waiting game, but he wanted more. He wanted to increase the odds, give the man more of a fighting chance. He just couldn't believe Micheal Weston was a bad person, not with all that he'd heard, and even if he _had _been it wouldn't change the fact that this was his patient. A patient fighting for their life as it hung in the balance.

The near sense of powerlessness was overwhelming.

"There has to be something that we can do to give him more of a fighting chance." Hank said.

"There's certainly no anti-toxin formulated for Tetrodotixin poisoning. Not that I'm aware of."

"No there isn't. But let's keep him warm, monitor his breathing and keep up on the IV fluids. Monitor his heart for any signs of cardiac arrhythmia, we'll do an EKG every thirty minutes."

"You got it."

Hank put a hand on her arm as he moved past, "I'll go tell Boris and check up on him. You don't mind staying?"

"Of course I don't." she smiled. "So long as you catch me up on everything that's going on later."

"I promise." he assured her, giving a last glance at their patient before leaving the room swiftly. He wanted to check his lover over, make sure he was okay, update him about Weston and then do some heavy research into Tetrodotixin. They'd have to be prepared for any type of turn for the worst it could throw at them. Which was plenty.

"Hank." Boris greeted him, looking a bit surprised to see him but offering a bit of a smile nonetheless and a glance over, "I wasn't expecting you so soon." he dropped a few files in his hand on the desk and gravitated over, Hank moving to meet him halfway.

"That's because there's not a lot I can do." Hank said, drawing in a breath.

"What do you mean?" Boris asked, "Patient confidentiality withstanding of course."

"In this case? I might make an exception. Can you sit down? I said I was going over you when we got back and I meant it."

"And here I thought I could escape it." Boris said lightly.

"You didn't have any episodes like you did on the way here? God forbid you weren't shot were you?" he asked, studiously looking him over and his hands following at times with his gaze over his lover's body.

"I'm intact –" Boris raised his arms, as if to show him, "No holes. As you can see."

"Any episodes Boris?"

"No... _Hank_." the Austrian smiled at him but his tone was a bit tighter than usual, Hank even detected some irritation there and while he might usually rebuke the medical fussing he was giving him, though he wouldn't call it _fussing_, he suspected it might be something else. He'd known the man long enough, and seen him through enough, to recognize when he might not be feeling well but not be able to say it exactly out loud.

Before he could ask though, Boris nodded towards the door Hank had entered from where they sat – knees lightly touching, "How's our patient?"

"At the moment... stable. His injuries aren't all that severe. I'm suspecting possibly a concussion, some bruised ribs – possibly a few broken – and he has some contusions and abrasions. We've seen to all his injuries but those aren't the worst of his problems. The man he was fighting injected him with a lethal amount of Tetrodotixin. It's a –"

"I know what it is Hank." Boris said, drawing himself back a bit and looking shocked but taking the information in stride. "You said lethal?"

"If he survives the first twenty four hours? He might be okay. The rest will be recovery. It's a miracle already he's survived the first twenty minutes."

"I will have to inform a few of his close acquaintances immediately."

"He has some?" Hank asked, surprised more than anything to hear this but from Boris, the man with a thousand secrets, he shouldn't be too entirely shocked. "Who? Is there anyone we can contact? Believe me if he has loved ones, they should be brought here as soon as possible."

"It's that serious." Boris said, meeting his gaze levelly.

Hank didn't hesitate to respond, "Yes. His chances right now, as we speak, are less than five percent. At best."

Boris stood immediately, "I'll make some calls. Do your best Hank."

For a moment, Hank hesitated but then he pushed himself to his feet, knowing when Boris had effectively dismissed him. It wasn't as if he meant too, it wasn't as if he ever meant to hurt his feelings and none were hurt here but he was in a bit of a hurry, he did have a critically ill patient to see to. And so he left without argument.

Divya looked up as he walked in and gave him a bit of a smile, Hank trying for one himself, "Don't suppose I can ask if there's been any change?"

"He's still the same in the few minutes you were gone. In his condition, frankly that's positive."

"Yeah." Hank murmured, looking down at the spy from his bedside, lifting up the blankets just enough to check the swelling on the ribs they'd wrapped, "I hate to say it, but let's take these bandages off." he looked up at Weston's face, the tranquility there of the blissfully unconscious and nothing of his injuries or life threatening circumstances. "I wouldn't usually recommend it but he needs all the room he can have to breathe."

They eased the bandages off, Hank setting them aside and reaching down to check the man's pulse. The machines monitoring his vitals were right there but there wasn't anything more reassuring than the feel of a pulse beneath his fingers. It was weak but steady and he withdrew, finding it hard not to keep trying to find something to do. At this point, the hurry up and wait game was on.

"Did Boris say anything more about him? Who is he Hank?"

Hank nodded towards the other side of the room, spotting one of Boris' guards nearby. "Can we have some coffee or something?"

Without a word the guy stoically moved from his position by the wall and gave a bit of a tilt of his head in acknowledgment as he left, Divya giving Hank a bit of a smile, "Not that talkative types are they?"

"No," Hank said, breathing a laugh, "They aren't." he glanced back at the spy and took a seat at the nearby table and began to tell her all that he could about what had happened. Even from his vantage point, he realized there wasn't a lot _to _tell. Most of what he knew about the man himself was instinctual. That he was a good person, for whatever reasons he'd been burned. Boris had confirmed that himself in a few words, doing all this alone for Weston spoke of a great deal. Hank was grateful in many ways that Boris' stashed medical equipment was no longer being used on Boris himself.

"And Boris said he might have loved ones?" Divya asked.

"I think he does. Boris said he was going to make some calls."

She let out a breath at that, turning her slightly troubled gaze over to their patient – whose life hung in the balance. "I just wish there was more that we could do... quite honestly Hank I've never experienced this before."

Hank's immediate response to assure her of something, anything, was interrupted by his phone vibrating and glancing down at the caller ID – he answered it with a smile, "Hank speaking."

"_Green or peach. And don't say green because I know you'll just mean peach." _his younger brother answered.

"Peach."

"_Now you just mean green!"_

"No I actually mean green."

"_Almost clever Henry, almost. Where are you by the way? I just got the most amazing call. Paige is coming back and I'm planning the most incredible welcome home party _ever-"

"Really? She's coming back? Evan that's great news!"

"_Yeah okay well it's last minute and she's coming back _tomorrow _so we need to mobilize here. Where are you?"_

"Yeah.. about that? I'm going to be tied up for awhile. I have a critically ill patient that I can't leave."

"_For how long?" _Evan asked.

This gave him a pause and he gave the spy under his care a bit of a troubled look, "I'm not sure. But I'll keep you posted."

After saying his goodbyes, Hank set his phone aside and moved to take his tablet out of his bag, pausing and looking up but not exactly at Divya – staring at the floor as he told her what he hadn't before. "There was something else... at the museum."

"What?" she frowned.

"I honestly don't know if I should tell you or not." he said, meeting her gaze levelly.

"Well it looks to be bothering you a great deal."

"Because it is. But I'm not even sure I'm all that ready to talk about it." he called up a few applications on his tablet and a few internet browsers, drawing in a breath and trying to break down what might be able to give their spy a fighting chance and maybe ultimately in the long run save him.

"Hank..."

Hank quickly looked up, first to Divya and then to where her gaze was drawn – at Weston. He was on his feet in a second, seeing some sort of muscle spasm, his only warning before the seizure hit.

Racing across the room he reached out not to hold him down but steady, Divya doing the same on the other side – Hank glancing up at monitors, none as of yet signaling a crash – only a rapid heart rate as the spy jerked and convulsed on the table.

"He's almost out of it." Hank said tensely, glancing between the monitors, wincing as the body beneath his hands gave another jarring jerk and then finally stilled, only a few more twitches remaining as any sign of what had just happened – those rapidly passing as well.

Divya let out a breath, her and Hank sharing a serious and concerned glance.

"I hope we won't be expecting more of this..." she said, brushing her hair back.

Jogging back over to his tablet, he flipped through the research he had on hand for Tetrodotixin poisoning, shaking his head in frustration, "There's not much we can do but treat the symptoms. The medications listed treat the symptoms? But not the Tetrodotixin itself. I just can't believe that a poison that's been around since the dark ages doesn't have _some _sort of medication to combat it. At least an anti-toxin." sighing, he resisted the urge to toss the tablet onto the tablet with far more force than usual.

"Believe me I wish there was something more we could do as well." Divya murmured, giving a troubled look over at the spy.

Hank gave him the same troubled look, "Along with that EKG, let's check his core temperature every hour on the hour. More if it starts dropping more noticeably."

Divya nodded and Hank resisted the urge to toss the tablet down again, sitting down a bit heavily into the chair at the table across the room instead with an equally heavy sigh.

The hours came and went and passed so slowly, it seemed as though time itself was trying to torture them. Hank held no illusions, the waiting game was always the hardest. Signs of improvement were enough to hold even the most nervous of medical professionals anchored by some sort of hope – but Weston wasn't budging. In fact – all they had was a core temperature drop of an actual degree by midnight, another seizure, breathing difficulties and signs of a brief tachycardia episode during an EKG.

When Boris came by to check on them shortly after midnight, all Hank had for him was a weary – grave look.

The Austrian took in the look and his expression nearly mirrored it, behind the stoic impassivity the man usually held around himself, "Any... signs of improvement?"

Hank just shook his head and stood, moving closer to his lover and pitching his voice low, "Please tell me he has family. Someone, anyone who can be here."

"About that Hank... I recently had a visit from the CIA. I had enough connections to withhold information and due to my diplomatic status in some circumstances I do not believe they can touch Weston here however... I'm not sure how long that will last."

"They can't take him." Hank murmured intently, "Any movement now _will _kill him."

"I figured as much." he drew in a breath, "At any rate whatever they do have is purely speculation. I denied any involvement with him and I trust you will do the same."

"Of course Boris." he assured him, trying to also assure him without words just how much his privacy meant to his lover. That would never change and he had no intention of it. "And you..." he smiled, stepping closer in the emptiness of the room save for an unconscious spy and a few of Boris' guards and putting a hand on his lover's side, "Should be sleeping. You shouldn't be up this late."

"I find myself unable to sleep." Boris said, taking his eyes away from Hank's and resting it on the man behind them to Weston.

"I don't have a choice but I know how you feel. I couldn't either." he studied his lover a bit intently, half turning to give the same look over at Weston before looking back to Boris, "Just how well do you know him? I can't believe you'd go to all these lengths for just anyone."

Boris hesitated, looking up his guards. After a moment of decision he caught the eyes of one and nodded them both out, waiting until they were gone and the door was shut before he started speaking. Even then and while they left, he looked undecided and weighing if he should.

"I suppose... I owe you many explanations Hank." he hesitated, "Especially about what happened today."

Hank raised his head a bit, nodding slightly, "That would be a start."

Boris gave him a bit of an unsteady smile and reached down for his hand, nodding towards the window beyond where there was a place to sit. The moonlight filtered from within, beyond the reach of the soft lamps near Weston, and the sky was cloudless. From here even they could just see the beach and under any other circumstances, it would have been romantic.

"I have... never been an open book you know." Boris started, glancing down at their hands – one of his clasped with Hank's.

Hank just smiled a bit, nodding, "I know." One of the vast and many reasons why he loved the illusive billionaire.

"A long time ago Hank, a very long time –" he said, looking up and directing his gaze out the window, "I was employed in certain... clandestine circles. I worked really for no one but everyone. I was loyal, I did what I was told and I did it well. I was also young and naive... point be had I found myself too in Weston's position eventually. My status however in life gave me some measure of escape. My … father –" he smiled, "Brushed me off and said he would find another place for me. And so he did. In doing so I salvaged my life and my reputation and escaped my burning. In a manner of speaking. For the longest time, I could not leave New York. When I could, my heart had grown fond of the place and I stayed – I retired here."

Hank at some point while listening intently had taken both of Boris' hands in his own, both of them pretty much failing to notice, and he gave them both a brief squeeze now, "Before you think it?" he asked after a heavy moment, "This doesn't change my love for you. And it never will. I was just... caught off guard today."

"It wasn't something you should have had to see." Boris said, raising his eyes to him at last.

"I did and it's over... and it seems pretty obvious that you didn't want to resort to that as much as I probably didn't want to see it."

"True." Boris said, finding a bit of a smile but he looked very tired when he spoke it. "Very true Hank."

"Come here." Hank murmured, bringing a hand up to the back of his lover's neck and drawing him in for a slow – tender kiss that was too brief for both of them but all they could certainly afford. "I love you." he murmured against his lips, "Thank you."

Boris opened his mouth to say something, or to kiss him again he wasn't sure, but they were interrupted by the sudden loud and demanding sound of alarms going off – Hank realizing with a jolting flash of panic that seized his chest and nearly stopped his own heart what it was. Micheal.

He was on his feet and moving before he even realized he was doing, quickly glancing over monitors – reaching out for the spy himself, "Boris – I need Divya." he said, sending a look over at his lover.

Boris moved quickly for the door, Hank turning back to his patient and assessing what was wrong so he could right the problem. The problem with _that _… is that everything appeared to be wrong.


End file.
